


the intricate blend.

by ffomixam



Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Battle of the Bands, F/M, pre-fame
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-08
Updated: 2019-04-08
Packaged: 2020-01-07 01:58:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18400829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ffomixam/pseuds/ffomixam
Summary: You’re the lead guitarist and singer for the band Banshee; in the early 1960s, you enter a battle of the bands with hopes of success.





	the intricate blend.

**Author's Note:**

> let's pretend i have a clue about how instruments and events like battle of the bands functions

You’re thrown out of bed by the screeching of multiple alarm clocks and screaming of girls, screaming that felt all around you. But it wasn’t just the noise causing you to quite literally fall out of bed, rather your friend who you had shared it with. 

You sat up on the floor with a daze. It hadn’t hurt. Much. Fortunately, you had landed on the mattress used and shared by two of your other mates. Who was yelling and screaming at each other in the hallway outside of the room. You heaved a sigh and glanced at your friend still in bed. Your friend, Dorothy, looked down at you with large circles under her eyes. She sighed, her green eyes hazy and tired. She looked like a mess. You felt like a mess.     

Honestly, who’s idea was it to wake up at six in the morning? And with so many alarm clocks? Sleepovers with your bandmates always had been chaotic. Too many clashing personalities in a too small a room all night? Jesus. They were your best friends but they all got a little much after a while. 

You shook your head and slowly stood up. It was a hard-won battle. Your legs weak and the mattress  _ ‘oh so soft’. _ You looked back to Dorothy, having gotten your attention as she coughed.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, sounding parched and half asleep. She sat against the wall the bed was leaned against, “didn’t mean to push you out of bed. The twins just surprised me.” Both of you glanced to the open door. The screaming continued, still as intelligible as before. “It’s alright,” you sighed, “I’ll go check it out,” rubbing your eyes, and left the room once the yelling had calmed down.

The hallway was a mess. Clothes and equipment all over the floor with one twin on the floor clutching a bag while yelling at the other in the bathroom with the door open. The sitting twin, Sabina, looked up at you, her eyes widening as she noticed you. “Uh,” she started and quickly was interrupted by you. “Don’t,” you held a hand up and waved it around. “Just clean this mess up and we can talk about it later.” 

You turned and walked into the bathroom, shutting the door behind you. “Ester, what happened?” You asked the calmer twin, who was putting on makeup. Ester paused in putting on lipstick, glanced at you, before continuing. “Sabina had a nightmare about today and was putting her stuff together, getting ready to ‘abandon’ us… Her words.” She put her lipstick down and turned to you with the hint of a smirk, “I stopped her.”

“Oh… Then why the yelling?” You asked with furrowing brows. Sabina having nightmares wasn’t uncommon but certainly not something that led to screaming matches. Ester rolled her eyes and glanced to the door, “She thought one of her drumsticks got broken, something that happened in the dream, and wouldn’t shut up about it. I’ll admit... I may not have acted my best about it.” 

She shrugged, “also, as we know, she likes to be loud,” and smoothly went past you and opened the door. “You done?” You heard her say. You followed her out and saw that Sabina had gotten off the floor and was now cradling two drumsticks, clearly not broken. “Sorry,” she whispered to you. “It’s alright,” you whispered back as you passed her, with a quick pat on her shoulder, on your return to the bedroom.

In the bedroom, you saw that Dorothy now was out of bed and getting dressed while Ester was doing the same thing close by. Sabina was already dressed, you remembered, leaving you the odd one out. You quickly went to your bag, heaving out your clothes for the day. It was the same outfit you and the rest of your band were going to perform in; not trusting that the venue would have space for you plus all the other contestants. Especially the female contestants. Admittedly it wasn't a very high brown place you were going to but there was a chance for a big money reward in it. Something all four of you needed.

Later; when you all had gone and been done preparing for the trip, you met the rest in front of the house with only your guitar case and a small bag of essentials, cosmetics and snacks for during the day. The members of your band all carried out their own instruments and either a backpack or purse.

You all got into the van that you once bought by saving a lot of money and working multiple part-time jobs and small gigs. It had taken a long time but in the end; you ended up with a van for a good price and you were more than proud of it.

Dorothy drove, the better driver out of you all and you wanted to be sure to get to the venue safely. You were seated next to her. The twins were in the back holding on to all the bags. The safety net you had installed snapped some drives ago and you were yet to fix it.

The journey was smooth and simple. It had taken you roughly two hours to get to Blackpool where the contest was held, and you had waked up early for that and to get there in good time when the event started at noon. 

You stepped out on cracked asphalt and breathed in… air. Not something you would call fresh. Something near you smelled rotten and like… piss? You shrugged it off and hurried to the back of the van for your stuff.

The twins were already there, lugging out instruments and bags. Sabina gave you a great smile and handed you your guitar case. Ester was laughing about something as she handed Dorothy her compact keyboard. Dorothy’s eyes were wide and you had a sense of the joke having been crass.

“So,” you nudged Dorothy lightly with your shoulder and turned to face the venue, “this the place?” It was old and run down, but clearly of... some historic value. People were flocked around its entrance. Good thing, as contestants,  you had backstage passes and were to go in around the back of the building.

Dorothy nodded while focusing on locking up the van. The twins came up to stand on each side of you, bags in hand. Sabina looked anxious, very anxious, while Ester looked like she always did; unimpressed. 

“Looks like shit, “ Ester muttered and started walking towards the building with her twins right at her heels. You snickered and glanced to Dorothy who looked curiously, her head slightly slant, at the building before she then followed the twins.

You cursed under your breath, not one wanting to be last, and quickly followed along as they crossed the road to the venue’s parking lot that would ultimately lead to the back entrance.

The sun shone down upon the four of you, bringing a warm heart to your core and you smiled as you neared the entrance. A man and a woman stood at the door and quickly dug out your passes and handed them over to your friends. 

“Hi,” you heard Sabina greet the duo. The man stared her down, you assumed by his friendly posture that he was the bouncer. 

“We here for the battle of the bands event,” you stepped forward and said, presenting your pass, a piece of laminated paper, to the woman. She smiled, “oh! Go ahead. The main area for the bands is just down the hall, and good luck!” Ester scoffed, earning herself a light jab in her side by your elbow and you all headed inside. 

The first thing you noticed as you got inside was that it was crowded. Not something you could miss. People running around with various kinds of instruments and some in various kinds of undressed. You playfully covered Dorothy’s eyes and a bare-chested man ran by and both you giggled.

Dorothy suddenly looked serious and pulling you to the side and telling the twins to go ahead. She had a soft grip on your bicep as she looked at you with big eyes. “We need to talk,” and while you felt a worry creep up your chest; you couldn’t help slightly giggle at her sudden seriousness.

“Yeah?” You said as you head calmed down at her furrowing eyebrows.

“It just that…” she paused as large group of boys passed by. “You tend to get… competitive. And while, yes, this is a competition; we could… use this opportunity to network. Find people in our peer group, get connections in the industry. You know?” 

You nodded and she continued, “so, let’s try not to make too many enemies. Alright?” She smiled, though it seemed anxious and you patted her on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, I’ll be on my best behaviour,” you reassured with a wink.

“But, remember,” you continued and lifted your index finger, “we don’t just get money out of this. We get the change to be in an actual recording studio. And we so need that to record our demo, so I won’t let anyone get in way of that and you know it.” 

Now it was her turn to nod as she muttered her understanding as you went to go in the same direction the twins had; you moved your arm around her shoulders and gave a quick side hug as you both smiled at each other.

You found the twins huddled together in a crowd of other contestants, the bags and instruments at their feet. Ester was talking to a man, his hands in the pockets of his jacket, while Sabina watched them curiously from behind her sister. You couldn’t tell much about him from where he stood with his back to you except that his hair was a dark brown. Ester was smiling, a rarity as it was either a deadpan expression or the occasional smirk.

He left just as you arrived. Sabina jumped to give Dorothy a hug, nuzzling her face in Dorothy’s blonde mane, as soon as you were spotted. You looked to Ester with a raised brow, “Who was that?”

She shrugged, “Paul McSomething… I wasn’t really paying attention. He’s a fellow bassist, for a band who’s also in the contest. Can’t recall the name of the band… Anyway, he was flirting. I was scouting the competition.” You both laughed but stopped as you noticed Dorothy frowning at you, but couldn’t help the slight giggling that continued after she looked away.

Sabina came up to your side with wide eyes and a blush, “he was really cute though.” 

Ester scoffed, “he was alright,” but quickly smiled and lightly pushed her sister’s shoulder.

You moved on to check your instruments and made small chitchat with your band members. It was still a while before the first bands were to perform, and even longer before you and decided to take a solitude walk about the place to check it, and other contestants, out.

You quickly noted the alarming, but not shocking, disparity between the sexes. Most of the bands there consisted of men. Very few had maybe one female member but otherwise, it was just all male bands or all female ‘groups’ as you had seen them be labelled. It wasn’t surprising to you but still installed a disappointment and an anxious feeling in you.

You had managed to get lost while wandering through the building, mostly lost in your thoughts about today’s later performance; going through the lyrics and notes for your guitar playing you had mentally noted down. 

It was then when you suddenly, and harshly, bumped into something. No, someone. A young man who had managed to knock you down on your bum, and you were now staring up at him from the cold concrete floor of the deserted floor. He was staring back at you with narrowed eyes.

There was a beat. A short moment of the two of you just staring at each other. Before you blinked and yelling out, “What the hell!” Then it was his turn to blink and he looked taken aback by your sudden outburst, but he then leaned forward with his hand stretched out to you. Wanting to help you up. You didn’t give him the chance to say or do anything before you batted his hand away and got back up on your feet.

You dusted yourself off and frowned at him, “look where you’re going next time, okay, buddy” and went to leave but stopped as you heard him shout; “ _ Me? _ ... It’s you who you need to look where you’re going!”

“Oooh,” you said as you turned around to face him. It was then you got a good look at him. His eyes were focused on you, narrowed and brown. He had short brown hair, bangs stopping just short of his brows. His nose… noteworthy. In all, he wasn’t… unattractive. Not that that was your main concern right now.

“I could’ve gone just fine if you hadn’t filled up the entire hall,” you sneered and visibly looked him up and down. He wasn’t large by any means. You just didn’t have much to say in disagreeing with him. You hadn’t been paying attention, true, but by the way this had gone so far… you weren’t about to give in and let him  _ win _ .

“Oh? You would’ve seen me if you weren’t so busy looking at your feet!” He shot back at you. You huffed and crossed your arms. He had you there.

“Whatever,” you muttered and kicked the air. But before anything else could happen; suddenly a loud rumble was heard and you felt yourself getting pushed up against the wall as a large shopping cart, with a man in it, came flying past you down the hall. A group of men, all yelling, soon came running after it.

You groaned as you had hit your head against the wall. As your vision cleared, you noticed an arm over your chest and quickly tore it off. There was an audible protest and you looked up. It was the guy from before. Did he… just save you from getting trampled?

“Hey! Hey… you’re welcome,” he said with a smirk and a look in his eyes you couldn’t quite place. Worry?  You sighed. “...Thank you,” you muttered and looked anywhere but at him.

You soon felt a light tapping on your shoulder and sighed, turning back around again and almost bumped into a hand. The guy’s outstretched hand. You looked back and forth between it and his face. He smiled.

“I’m John, by the way. John Lennon.”

You reluctantly shook his hand and introduced yourself. You flushed; you had really come off as ungrateful, hadn’t you? He saved your life. Or, well, saved you from tremendous harm. You smiled, and little awkwardly. 

“Again… Thank you. I really mean it. That could’ve been… disastrous… Jackasses.” The insult was muttered. Really, who races shopping carts indoors?

He, _ John _ you reminded yourself, laughed. It was a great laughter. And a great smile. And- er, you quickly willed away those thoughts. He might’ve just saved you but the first impression he had given you were still sticking around, mainly on your sore bum. 

Besides you had other things to concern you with right now. Like, the contest. The contest… Right! You had that and your friends to get back to.

You could have gone on with your thoughts but was quickly interrupted by John; “are ye in the contest too?”.

“Hm? Oh! I am,” you nodded. That question was interestingly close to your train of thought. Funny how that is. “You are too? Cool,” you nodded again, this time more to yourself. So he’s competition, eh?

“Yeah, I’m here with my band The Beatles. I play rhythm guitar,” he looked proud as he said that. A feeling you could completely relate to when it came to your own band.

You pointed to yourself, a warm feeling swelling up inside you, “I play lead guitar, in Banshee.” You smiled. Talking about your band and music was always easier for you than any other topics.

“You play?” He seemed… surprised. You frowned at his expression but nodded. It didn’t surprise you, that his reaction was that. Women musicians were far and few between. Usually sticking to singing, whether it was by their own coalition or someone else's.

He seemed to notice your frown and quickly continued, “brilliant, I’d love to see ye play.” He winked and you blushed ever so lightly.

Mentally, you sighed a relief. Really, it could be such a gamble telling someone, especially men, that you played the guitar. They always seemed to think it was inappropriate. A ‘too sexual’ an instrument for good young ladies to play. That you should stick to the piano or violin. Screw ‘em. 

“You will,” You laughed, “when my girls and I beat your asses later today.”

He gave a bark of laughter, “oh? Is that what you think is going to happen?” 

“Yeah!”

“We’ll see about that!”

Both of your laughter intertwined as it echoed down the empty hall. You checked your watch. There still was some time left but not by much. You sighed. It was rare you got so well off with someone new but you really had to begin to leave.

“I…” you looked back up to him from your watch. But even though you had stopped laughing but it still hung in the air. Still visible in his eyes and smile. And you could still feel it in your chest. A warm pleasant sensation, like a hug.

“I should get back,” you told him. You felt disappointment creeping up on you. You had just met and yet so much have happened. Really, you had gone from yelling at each other to him saving your hide to now laughing. It was a lot, and something you wished would have continued. Who knew where it could go from here.

He glanced down at his feet, “right,” and looked at you. His otherwise hard exterior seemed to have softened as he tugged on the sleeve of his leather jacket. 

Something seemed to click in his mind and he looked up with a grin, “I’m going the same way.”

You smiled right back at him and nudged your shoulder to his as you went by him towards the way you had entered only a little while ago. You talked, about a lot of things, on your way back to your separate groups. But the topic always stayed near music and your bands.

He told you about Hamburg. How he and his friends had had a residency at a club there. How after that of the group there was only three left of the group. About how the drummer had been replaced with a friend they had met while in Hamburg. He didn’t mention how the original bassist left, or why. 

You commented and joked about the new drummer’s name. How odd it was, but how it definitely was appropriate for the line of business you all were in.

You told him about your own band. And the difficulties you had gone through as an all-female band. You highlighted the fact that you were a band, not a girl group. That bands were with members who played their instruments. Groups weren’t. Something you were adamant on not becoming. And of how managers and producers wanted to change you and your friends. You had told John that;

“ _ They want us to be more like the typical girl groups. With tight dresses and bumblebee hairdos. Now don't get me wrong; they’re all fine and dandy. But that’s just not us. _ ”

How that caused things to be difficult to get gigs, jobs, deals or even just talks with the people necessary to make it in the business. And he had seemed to understand that. For the most part. Or he, at least, sympathised with you, cursing out those ‘bloody divvys’.

You parted ways before either of you had spotted your group. You had realised you were both camped at different ends of the room and that you had to split up. The lights flickered and a voice boomed throughout the room; indicating the start of the contest. You both hurried away from each other, promising to find each other once it was all done. 

Dorothy immediately spotted you as you moved over to the group and waved at each, frantically. You assumed there was a possibility, a chance, that you might have been missed. You laughed as Sabina suddenly came from around Dorothy and trapped you in a crushing embrace. 

“Where’ve you been?” Dorothy scolded, reminding you that of what you’ve heard so many times over from your parents. “Oh? Have I been gone?” You teased with a smile as Sabina let you go.

Dorothy frowned but before she said anything more; Ester stood beside you and said, “Calm down, Tea, she’s here now, ain’t she.” She had an open beer bottle in hand.

“Where you get that,” you quickly muttered and looked around. You hadn’t seen a bar, not even a fridge. Did she bring that with her? And here you had been a total muppet and had only packed healthy snacks and  _ water  _ as per Dorothy’s request.

The lights flickered, indicating that it was the last chance to get to your assigned seats in the auditorium before the event started. “Fine,” Dorothy sighed. You checked your things; all were in check and ready to roll when it was your turn. And, so you left them behind with only one last thing from Dorothy, “remember we’re after The… Bundits…” She wavered in the wave of snickering the band name had earned itself.

Finding your seats weren’t hard, all were numbered and readily stacked in rows filling the large hall. You tried to catch sight of John in the mass but to no avail and so you slumped back into your seat with a heavy sigh. 

The first couple of bands quickly passed by and you spend your time counting the cracks and notches in the ceiling while time passed. It had earned you some nudges from Dorothy on your left, in want to get you to pay attention, and from your right Ester snicked at your pain.

It wasn’t before the presenter again stepped out on the stage, as he did after every number, to introduce the next that your attention was finally had. He started talking about a band from Liverpool, and a good amount was including the four of you. But it was when he started mention Hamburg… and then names… John’s name!

You shot up in your seat, your back straight, and you forcefully nudged Dorothy in her side. She produced and ‘ow!’ but before she could say anything more, and she definitely was; with the look she had on her face. But she stalled as the presenter started talking again in a way, way, overenthusiastic voice.

“And here we have,” the ‘a’s in the have was pulled to some effect and the presenter glanced down the paper he was holding during an almost unnoticeable break in his speech, “Good Golly, Miss Molly originally by Little Richard, now, performed here by… The Beatles!” 

You gasped ever so slightly, “The Beatles?” You turned to Dorothy, your voice was slightly raised as the starting drums of the song blared out into the crowd. “That’s John’s band! The guy told you about-” 

You stopped. Dorothy seemed lost, she wasn’t looking at you. Didn’t even acknowledge you had said something. You furrowed your eyes and followed her gaze to further understand what had her so enthralled. You sighed, it was the bassist. The one who Ester had talked with earlier. Hell, if you could remember his name. Peter? Whatever.

They had all gotten on stage. The lead guitars and drummer were new faces to you. You giggled to yourself, remembering the name of the drummer. But your attention was quickly taken away anyhow when a voice, John’s you realised, started to spread throughout the room.

It had you silent, mesmerised; you could admit that, at least to yourself. And it seemed like you weren’t the only one being a fan. Around you, multiple girls, and boys if you saw correctly, was just as taken in as you were. Dorothy definitely was, telling from when you glanced at her you saw her mouth open in a silent gasp as (Phillip? Pete? Something with P, definitely) the bassist did the ‘ooohs’ of the song.

Too quickly was it over. You cursed under your breath. There had gone all your chances of being cool and aloof in front of John when you, hopefully, saw him again. They were good… damnit. Not that you had expected them to bad… Just not that good. It would’ve been easier for you if they were bad. To convince yourself that your  _ all-female _ band had at least an ounce of a chance here.

Soon the presenter was back. Yapping on about something. Afterwards, the band he was blabbing on about was on stage.

Dorothy stood up and you looked to her with a raised brow. She looked back at you, nerves visible in her posture, “[First Name], The Pundits are next…” it was almost a whisper but you heard it and poked Ester as you stood up. No words were exchanged with her as she had always seemed to know what came next.

You quickly made your way to the back and started prepping. Making sure the guitar was as it was. The bass. The keyboard. Everything but drums. Those were already on stage, being used by all the other bands. It had you wondering but not for long as Sabina had managed to hit herself in the face with a twirling drumstick, causing the other two and you to laugh.

The Bundits came and went through the entrance to the stage. They were… alright. Your opinion quickly lowered as they passed you on their way off the stage. They sneered at you. Looking disapprovingly down at you. You felt Dorothy’s soft grasp on your arm. Clearly, she had in mind of holding you back in case anything were to happen. You weren’t going to do anything… At least not while you had your guitar on you.

You glared at them… Well, at their backs but you soon were distracted by your band name getting called from the stage and was pushed out there by Ester who had noticed what had got you quiet.

Okay, okay, okay, you could do this. You had performed multiple times before. No big deal, yeah? Just this was… important. There were big pennies in it. Recording time. And there was John. In the audience. Who you wanted to impress. What? Shit- focus!

Dorothy started the song, and soon you and the rest joined in. A song was a favourite shared between you all. It was Pledging My Love by the late, great, Johnny Ace. You and the rest had modified it a little, to better fit your choice of instruments. And, well, you thought it was great. 

But as you played; you looked into the crowd, feeling unsure by their expressions but quickly turned to look after John. Had he gotten back? He must have; it had been three songs since his band was on. You shifted your focus back onto the song. He could wait.

Realistically it was soon over but it sure hadn’t felt like that. It was like as if you had been on stage for ages. Strumming over and over again. The cold sweat dripping down your back. You sighed as it was over and left with heavy steps toward the steps of the stage.

You were the last to get backstage. Sabina and Ester eager in dialogue and Dorothy stood, hand in hand, looking at you. “You doing okay?” She whispered and met you halfway towards each other.  You gave a tired smile. She was always such a worrywart.

“Yeah,” you nodded and thought of excuses to give. You weren’t ready to start talking and, probably (very likely), gushing about John. Sure, he made you feel soft inside. But that didn’t necessarily mean something. Even if it did; this wasn’t the time or place for it.

You got back into your seat. The time flew by as you rested to the loud playing of other contestants. Dorothy was right. You should pay attention to it. You could probably learn something out of this but so much else was on your mind.  Like, John.

Right, John. John who really should leave your mind but who seemed  determined in staying. That guy. Groaning, you sprang out of your seat. You had to find him. You looked at Dorothy and she looked back, visible confusion on her face. “I gotta,” you whispered, “uh, do something.” And off you went.

‘ _ So much for getting him out of my mind _ ,’ you thought as you went through the hall, looking for him in the many rows of people. He should be with three other men. Luckily, having seen them perform, you know knew how they looked like.

While the current band on stage stopped playing and were shifting places with the presenter; you heard a loud ‘hey’ getting called out from somewhere in the sitting crowd. It garnered the attention of many, and not just you.

You turned around to the source and saw who it was. John! You hurried down and into the row of where he was sitting, well standing as he was waving to you. He was sitting furthest in of his group. The bassist (again the name escaped you) was next to him. Then the guitars with the drummer next to him. You quickly spied their intertwined hands before it had been broken apart but your loud appearance.

“[First Name]!” He had a large grin on his face, “what are ye doing here?” He was still standing. You were standing in front of the bassist, probably blocking his view of the new band that was playing.

“Why, looking for you, of course” you smiled and felt your heart start to race. Something about him made you so… soft and warm. And causing you to chase after him it seemed. You had never been the one to chance after a boy.  _ Huh _ .

“Who’s this?” You looked to your side. It was the bassist, the one with droopy eyes and dark hair that Sabina had gushed to you about. John looked to him too, “It’s the bird I told you about.” The bassist ooh’d in realisation. And you glanced to John and grinned, “You’ve talked about me?”

“Well, I,” he started but got interrupted by the guitarist ( _ had John called him Geo? _ ) who had otherwise been silent with his companion, ( _ Ringo. Not a name to forget _ ).

“Oh, he couldn’t stop talking about ya.” Ringo nodded in agreement and all three laughed, leaving you and John in silence. He looked bashful with you smiling at him. “I talked about you a little-”

“Oh, he was ceaseless! Constant!” Ringo this time around laughed out. John groaned and started walking towards the end of the row opposite you. You were quick to follow him, but not before waving your goodbyes to the boys.

The contest all forgotten; John and you made your way out to the lobby of the building. It was silent and completely empty. “Where’re you going?” You asked the back of John who had stopped near the entrance. You could see by the way his shoulder moved that he had sighed deeply. He turned around; eyes narrowed as he looked at you.

“Look,” you started as he stared down at you silently, “I’m not one for romance or… anything even close to it, really.” You paused; nervous, anxious, unsure of how to precisely formulate how you were feeling.

“And I know we just met  _ today  _ but I… really like you,” you took a step closer to him, “and I was really hoping you did too?”

He smirked, “ye, I really like me too,” and laughed. You groaned and lightly slapped him on the shoulder with a smile on your face. He stepped closer to you in the midst of your laughing. Much closer. You stopped when you felt his hand on your cheek. It was firm and cold and everything you had hoped.

Laughter was still lingering in your eyes when he bent down and locked you in a kiss. His lips were deceivingly softer than they had looked. And they tasted of the bitter taste of tobacco mixed with the taste of… aniseed? Did he have candy? You should ask him about it later. But for now, the feelings of your lips together were enough to make you melt.

John pulled away with his hand still on your cheek, and you sighed. Head completely blank. He stroked a finger across your cheek.

“I hope that answered your question,” he whispered with a soft smile on his face. You slowly nodded the best you could with, what, his hand still on your cheek. You could stay like this forever but that was a wish soon forgotten as the doors to the auditorium suddenly sprang open, filling the room with loud talking.

John and you moved to the side and up a few steps on a staircase that filled the middle of the room, his arm around your waist causing you to feel a tightness in your chest. The (forgotten) contest most have finished, you guessed as you looked on the crowd. Some were carrying bags, some instruments.

You heard your name called out in the crowd and soon saw Dorothy come running towards you with your band mates… and The Beatles right at her heel. They managed to get through the crowd and stopped in front of the stairs, making them seem shorter compared to you and John.

They all talked in over each other and you couldn’t quite make out what they were trying to say. You glanced to John with a raised brown and noticed he didn’t seem as confused as you were. Had he any clue of what was happening.

Oh, you had enough. “Shut up!” You yelled at them and hopped down a single step. “One at a time…  _ please _ .”

The Beatles glanced at each other, seemingly unsure of who to go first. Dorothy looked near tears and Sabina was completely quiet. That left out Ester who looking her usual self with her arms crossed. You raised a brow at her, hoping it was a clear indication for her to speak.

It was. And she spoke in her typical flat voice, “we lost.”

“Banshee?”

“And The Beatles too,” she muttered and nodded towards the three men beside her. It hadn’t been a surprise to you that Banshee had lost. The outlook hadn’t looked great for you and your girls, though you had deemed it worth a try. But you had had more hope for The Beatles.

“Then… who won?” 

“The fucking Bundits,” Sabina, to your surprise, muttered. Really, she rarely cussed. At least she had timed it well. But, The Bundits? Really? Well… it was not really a surprise. You shrugged and looked at John. He seemed to feel the same. Completely unimpressed.

Anyway, had you and John really been out long enough for the contest to end? In a way, it had both felt like it and like it hadn’t. It was hard for you to really… understand. It was like time had slowed when he kissed you. But it had also ended way too soon.

Dorothy got your attention again with a sigh, “we should get something proper to eat before leaving.” She was right, you realised the last time either of you had a proper meal was that morning. Both bands muttered an agreement. “Let’s all go together,” you heard the bassist say and the other two beside him nodded. You really ought to ask him for his name sometime soon.

As the group left towards the entrance in the now empty hall; you felt you hand getting grabbed. John, who had been silent the whole time, smirked down at you. He was still a step up high than you. You were all smiles as he bent down, and you tiptoed, up to meet in a kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> uh, it's a mess, i know, but it's my first reader insert (!) and my thoughts went amock so consider this a practise run for something else i have planned?


End file.
